[hider=Disjoint: Color my spine]
[center][h3][color=cyan]『𝕊𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣』[/color] [color=a2d9ce]『ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕟』[/color] [color=8493ca]『ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤』[/color][/h3][/center] [center][img]http://i65.tinypic.com/28hztyw.png[/img][img]http://i67.tinypic.com/2qb8wgw.png[/img][img]http://i63.tinypic.com/2h84geb.jpg[/img][/center] [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img][/center] [hr][center][color=silver]ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ℙ𝕠𝕤𝕥   / /   [@RedDusk][@Baklava][@January][/color][/center][hr][hr][center][color=silver]𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟛, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥   / /   𝔻𝕠𝕣𝕞 𝔹𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔸: 𝕊𝕦𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝟜𝟛𝟘   / /   ~𝟙𝟘𝟛𝟘[/color][/center][hr]

[hider=Distill]
[color=a2d9ce][quote]Hey Sander![/quote][/color]
A quick glance at his phone told him he had a new message, and Sander picked the phone up, reading the text and firing back a quick reply. 
 
[color=cyan][quote]Hello Callan. Can I help you with anything?[/quote][/color]

[color=a2d9ce][quote]Yeah. I need to talk to you. u busy?[/quote][/color]

[color=cyan][quote]Now is not good. Some other time?[/quote][/color]

[color=a2d9ce][quote]Its kinda important. When r u free?[/quote][/color]

[color=cyan][quote]I am not sure. You can call me.[/quote][/color]

[color=a2d9ce][quote]uh. I'd prefer to talk in person. Room 430. I'll be here pretty much all day. Just come over when you get a chance plz[/quote][/color]

[color=cyan][quote]I cannot go. Sorry.[/quote][/color]

[color=a2d9ce][quote]What? Why not??[/quote][/color]

[color=cyan][quote]Staying with Christmas.[/quote][/color]
A few minutes passed.

[color=a2d9ce][quote]Is everything ok?[/quote][/color]
Sander glanced to where his roommate was, tucked into his bed with [i]Meditations[/i] in his hands, before typing out the answer. 

[color=cyan][quote]Everything is fine. So just talk to me?[/quote][/color]

[color=a2d9ce][quote]Yeah[/quote][/color]

Sander frowned, part of him wanted to give in to Callan’s insistence, because [i]it was important[/i]. But Christmas had wanted him near. He couldn’t just leave the boy by himself. Another nervous glance in Christmas’ direction, before Sander finally stood up and walked over, the gaudy phone slipped into the pocket of his jeans. 
 
“[color=cyan]Hey.[/color]” -He said once he was standing by the bed, tapping one finger on his roommate’s forearm to get his attention –“[color=cyan]You’re alright there?[/color]”

Christmas blinked at the tap, having been focused on trying to understand some of the thoughts in the book. [color 8493ca]"H-huh? Yeah?"[/color]

“[color=cyan]Can I go somewhere? It’ll be quick. I promise.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]"Y-yeah...?"[/color] Yesterday's conversation with Marcus and then the aftermath of Sander's talk with Ernie pulled at his worries and Christmas scanned Sander's face for a moment before continuing. [color 8493ca]"Nothing...nothing bad, r-right?"[/color]

“[color=cyan]No. No.[/color]” -Sander said immediately, reading the worry in his roommate’s eyes –“[color=cyan]I’m just going out. To see Callan. To talk. It’ll be quick.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]"O-oh."[/color] Christmas looked back down at the book, wondering if feeling down about that was all right, but he didn't say anything. He knew what being fond of someone was. He also knew there was nothing but Sander's kindness between them, and Sander...wasn't kind like that to everyone, no. Hadn't been for Marcus. Hadn't been for the unknown future victim of Ernie's Stigma-fueled torment. But it was still beyond him to think that special treatment could mean anything important. 

It was okay, in the end. He had made his demand on Saturday and had tricked his roommate on Friday and that was [i]enough.[/i] Saturday evening in particular had been one word ("important") and one worry ("not worth") [i]ad nauseam[/i] in his mind and Christmas rubbed his arm nervously to hide his mixture of reactions about that surging back to the foreground.

[color 8493ca]"Have, um, have fun,"[/color] he said.

“[color=cyan]Alright. I’ll be back. Call me if you need anything.[/color]” -Another tap instead of a goodbye, then Sander was already moving toward the bathroom with a change of clothes in his arms. A compromise, this. Their suite felt safe, and Sander promised himself he wouldn’t take long. If anything happened, he could go back fast enough. It would be alright. 
 
[hr]
 
Around thirty minutes later, Sander was standing in front of the slightly open door of suite 430, decked in a crisp shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dark colored jeans. He knocked on the door exactly three times, tentatively, before letting his hand drop to his side. 

Callan sat up, shoving aside several of the pillows she'd been lounging on while watching a rerun of [i]Crazy Ex-Boyfriend on her iPad.[/i] At least her parents had been merciful enough not to change the Netflix password when they basically deleted her out of their lives. Not that she was still salty about that. [i]Not at all.[/i]

"[color=a2d9ce]Come in![/color]" she called out, lowering one leg off the bed just far enough to kick one of nine candy wrappers under her bed. She shoved her iPad and several misplaced pillows into the corner so he'd have somewhere to sit... if he chose to sit. She never could guess exactly how at ease Sander was. Hell, she never could guess much about him at all. She hadn't even been sure whether or not he was coming over with the way their conversation had ended. She could only guess why Sander was so reluctant to leave Christmas's side. She thought she knew, but she definitely wasn't bringing that up again. 

"[color=a2d9ce]Hey, you made it![/color]" she smiled, attempting to be casual as she tucked one leg under the other. If she was being totally honest with herself, she'd almost hoped he wouldn't show up so she could keep putting this conversation off.

“[color=cyan]Yeah.[/color]” -Sander offered a soft smile in the face of Callan’s easy enthusiasm, blue eyes subtly scanning the little corner of the room. It was far too…cluttered, for his taste, but he refrained from making any comment. It wasn’t his place, really –“[color=cyan]May I?[/color]” -He gestured toward the small space on the bed, waiting. 

"[color=a2d9ce]Yeah, yeah,[/color]" she nodded encouragingly. Her eyes wandered towards the room's entrance as she briefly wondered when Siena or Marcus might be back. She decided not to worry about it too much. This shouldn't take long.

"[color=a2d9ce]Uhm... so...,[/color]" her eyes fell on Sander, "[color=a2d9ce]Tell me about your power.[/color]" She inwardly kicked herself. NO. That's not what she wanted to talk about. Well. It was but it wasn't. She was putting off the main issue-- again. But the request was made. She waited. 

Sander had barely settled down on his seat before the question dropped, and he looked up immediately, blue eyes alarmed –“[color=cyan]Why…do you want to know?[/color]” -He asked, expression guarded.

"[color=a2d9ce]Ah,[/color]" Callan froze, her gaze immediately falling to his shoulder. Was that a taboo question? Marcus and Siena didn't seem to mind talking about their abilities. Ernie and Emma hadn't seemed to mind either, but... maybe it was different for everyone. "[color=a2d9ce]I just thought it might be a good idea to ask. Since we'll be sparring together and all... you still wanted to do that, right?[/color]" She locked eyes with him again, looking more apologetic than anything.

“[color=cyan]Yeah. I’ll do it. With you.[/color]” -Sander broke off the eye contact, staring at a wrapper on the carpet instead. He was silent for several moments afterward, before exhaling. More reasons he couldn’t argue with. 
 
But maybe Callan deserved the truth too. She had seen him [i]there[/i]. Had fought him. And she wanted to talk to him, still. It was odd, and he wasn’t sure it was just because she wanted to pit her own strength against his, but he supposed he was okay with that –“[color=cyan]I…you already know this. I drink to get stronger. And it makes me…lose control. That’s pretty much all I do.[/color]” 

"[color=a2d9ce]You don't completely lose control though,[/color]" she said pensively, "[color=a2d9ce]I mean... you're still you, right?[/color]" She inwardly kicked herself again. She was supposed to be talking about herself-- not drilling Sander for details on his ability. But she'd already brought it up and she [i]had[/i] been meaning to ask, so she figured she might as well continue for now.

“[color=cyan]I would like to believe that, yeah.[/color]” -Sander shrugged, tried not to think too much about his [i]bad choices[/i] –“[color=cyan]But it’s…hard. Always was. I can never be sure. So that’s why I told you…it’s dangerous.[/color]”

Callan leaned back against the wall. "[color=a2d9ce]Mm,[/color]" she furrowed her brow, trying to think of what to say next instead of the guilt. At least he'd warned her. Her thoughts wandered back to Monday and Tuesday-- to all those canisters. "[color=a2d9ce]How much do you have to drink before you start... y'know?[/color]" 

“[color=cyan]Uh…It depends.[/color]” -But on what, Sander didn’t elaborate. This wasn’t a topic he was comfortable with, but also because he wasn’t quite sure himself. He didn’t know the exact measurements. He just…knew. And once he got going, it was also difficult to keep count.

'On what?' she wanted to say, but stopped herself there. He didn't seem very enthusiastic about going into detail. Not that she could blame him. He'd said he'd been a subnatural for a while, hadn't he? But he'd arrived at USARILN East at the same time she did. So she could only assume it hadn't been much longer than herself. Sander was probably still getting the hang of things, right? She was silent for a moment, lost in thought.

"[color=a2d9ce]You remember everything that happens?[/color]" she asked finally. It was about time she ask him about Misery. The fact that he hadn't brought it up with her all week had been a bit of a concern, but if he wasn't talking to her about it, he probably wasn't talking to anyone else about it either, right? She could hope.

"[color=cyan]...yeah.[/color]" -Sander confirmed, tone light, but he lifted his gaze to watch Callan carefully. 

"[color=a2d9ce]So... you... uh,[/color]" her shoulders tensed and she looked down at her hands in her lap, "[color=a2d9ce]You remember that thing.[/color]" 

Blurred shapes and flashes of white hot pain across his torso. Of course Sander remembered. Despite what some people might say, pain wasn’t something he could get used to. Even after all those years –“[color=cyan]Remember your…claws?[/color]” -He willed his face to remain neutral, hiding the grimace –“[color=cyan]It’s…alright. I don’t blame you.[/color]”

"[color=a2d9ce]No,[/color]" she looked up suddenly, "[color=a2d9ce]It's not. That wasn't supposed to happen. But worse than that-- I should've told you. And I'm sorry. If my cuff hadn't gone off....[/color]" She trailed off. She didn't want to think about what would've happened. For now she could only be grateful that it didn't. 

"[color=a2d9ce]I'm really sorry.[/color]"

“[color=cyan]But the cuff [i]had[/i] gone off, so it’s alright.[/color]” -Sander blinked, unsure what to make of the apologizes. They felt the same as Christmas’. She was apologizing over nothing. Was it because she felt bad for hurting him? –“[color=cyan]I’m alright. I told you before the fight, didn’t I? It’s alright if you hurt me. I can take it.[/color]” -He assured gently, hoping to take that guilt off Callan’s shoulders. 

She folded her arms stubbornly. "[color=a2d9ce]Don't give me that,[/color]" she shook her head, "[color=a2d9ce]That's not what this is about anyway. Its name is Misery. And it's way stronger than either of us. I can barely control it-- so I don't use it. But that day I... had some other things on my mind. It slipped out when it wasn't supposed to. You made sure I was aware of all the risks, but I didn't tell you. It wasn't right.[/color]" 

She chuckled uncomfortably, running a hand through her bangs cathartically, "[color=a2d9ce]Honestly, I totally understand if you don't want to spar with me again.[/color]"

“[color=cyan]Oh…So the claws? Those weren’t you?[/color]” -Sander titled his head, sightly taken aback by Callan’s revelations –“[color=cyan]What do you mean you can’t control it? Aren’t you…an Arbiter?[/color]” -He tapped a finger on the black mark that they didn’t share, as if to emphasize the point. 
 
“[color=cyan]No, I told you I would spar with you. So it’s alright. Even if you want to use…uh…Misery next time. It’s alright. Though you might want to be careful with the…cuffs.[/color]” -The black claws and blinding pain loomed in the back of his mind again, and he closed fingers around the sheet, chasing the memories away. It didn’t matter. Once the blood high rose up to consume everything, he’d be alright. He wouldn’t feel a thing. 

"[color=a2d9ce]Me...? No, it's... it wasn't me.[/color]" As she said it she almost felt more like she was trying to convince herself. It [i]wasn't[/i] her. It was Misery. She'd given it a name to make that clear. Misery destroyed her home. Misery almost killed Lawrence and Sander. She wasn't entirely blameless, but... 

"[color=a2d9ce]I mean... if I get too worked up or start to panic... Misery crawls out. And its angry and violent and I can really only give it basic commands. I'm still figuring it out. I'm an Arbiter, but... I've got some control issues of my own I guess.[/color]" She traced the mark under her eye as her eyes followed Sander's hand to his mark. Perhaps that was why she felt like she understood Sander's problem. At least a little bit. The only difference being that Sander was his own monster while she... wasn't?

"[color=a2d9ce]Unless you suddenly get a whole lot stronger, I'm afraid you won't be seeing Misery any time soon.[/color]" Callan smiled incredulously. She wouldn't have blamed him for backing out, but she didn't really think he would. But she didn't think he'd openly invite her to whip out Misery again, either. Was he a glutton for punishment? She knew he was durable, but the wound in his chest after only a second or two with Misery was enough to convince her Sander was being way too overconfident. 

“[color=cyan]Uh…I can get stronger if that’s what you want.[/color]” -Sander said quickly, before the Stigma could drown out the words with the voices from his past and the choices he couldn’t make –“[color=cyan]It’s…not safe. But Misery is stronger me, then I can…if you want.[/color]” -Even in his clearest moments, Sander pushed the choices away from himself. Because he couldn’t make them. Never couldn’t.
 
Maybe he should repay Callan for this. She was his equal, in a way. A monster lived under her skin too, white mark or no. She understood. So maybe, she deserved more than a half-truth. It was better now anyway, for her to find out from him, rather than later on the field. So she knew what to expect, if they were to fight side-by-side. So maybe if he found himself over the edge, she could stop him, when he couldn't stop himself.

And there was also that promise he made. Another loop of blue around his wrist. He wouldn't get hurt anymore, and he wouldn't hold Callan back, too. So, a compromise. 
 
“[color=cyan]It’s about last time. I…didn’t let you win.[/color]” – Sander confessed, fingers weaved together in his laps, fidgeting –“[color=cyan]But I didn’t…give myself a chance to win either.[/color]”                      

Callan blinked back at him, piercing together what Sander was trying to say. "[color=a2d9ce]You mean you didn't drink enough to win,[/color]" she stated, hoping she'd understood correctly. There was no anger in her voice. Everything suddenly made a lot more sense, if that were the case. Her mind wandered toward the possibilities. That meant he could probably match her, didn't it? Maybe even match Misery.... She waved the thought away. It was still too dangerous. Nonetheless, her mouth quirked into a smile, thinking of how much better the next fight could be with this newfound knowledge. 

She smoothed out her expression the best she could, but her excitement had already been made clear. Sander probably had his reasons.

"[color=a2d9ce]Uh, I don't understand,[/color]" she smiled apologetically, "[color=a2d9ce]Why?[/color]"

Sander wanted to give Callan the truth. He really did. But for all he tried, he couldn’t put that visceral feeling of power, when the fire burnt away his very mind and replaced his heart, to words. Not that he wanted to. Because despite everything they had in common, Callan could still separate herself from the monster. She could name it. While his monster already had a name. 
 
“[color=cyan]It’s…not safe.[/color]” -His tone was flat, drenched in defeat as he spoke, because he still couldn’t bring himself to say the truth. So they had to settle for a pathetic half-truth instead –“[color=cyan]I…uh…can be a little stronger in the next fight. Even Misery can’t hurt me.[/color]”   

"[color=a2d9ce]Not safe?[/color]" Callan started. She wanted to protest, but managed to stop herself before she said anything she'd likely regret. She wanted to know how strong Sander could get-- to test her ability to its limit. But she kept forgetting about the risks. Misery was on her mind, sure, but she needed to consider herself. She didn't want to put Sander in a bad position. If he accidently punched her spine out, she wouldn't be able to simply regenerate like Kusari. 

"[color=a2d9ce]Just enough so we're evenly matched. Don't worry about Misery.[/color]"

“[color=cyan]I mean it when I said even Misery can’t hurt me. It’s a part of my power. When I get strong enough, nothing can hurt me.[/color]” -Sander said, eyes still on his folded hands –“[color=cyan]You can go all out. Won’t hurt me…but you have to make sure I won’t hurt you as well.[/color]” 

Her mouth hung open for a moment before she clamped it shut, staring at Sander skeptically with her lips pursed. She would be lying if she didn't say his offer sounded tempting. Unbelievable, even. Watching someone beat Misery into the ground was a strange thought-- about which she felt even stranger. A sick sort of pleasure coupled with unease. Was it guilt? Or was she reluctant to acknowledge something could really be [i]that strong[/i]? Just the idea of it set her heart racing with dread and excitement all at once.

"[color=a2d9ce]I'll think about it,[/color]" she answered finally.

"[color=cyan]Sure. Take your time. I'll be here.[/color]"

"[color=a2d9ce]Uh.[/color]" Now it was her turn to start fidgeting. She pulled her sleeves up over her palms. "[color=a2d9ce]One other thing...[/color]"

"[color=a2d9ce]Would you you mind keeping this just between us? Lawrence is the only other one that knows. If you already told Christmas, that's fine. I just, uh. I think it would be better coming from me, y'know?[/color]" The real question was [i]when.[/i] They certainly deserved to know, but... wouldn't it be so much easier to tell them [i]after[/i] she figured out how to control it? 

“[color=cyan]Sure.[/color]” -Sander nodded. If anything, he thought he could somewhat understand the reason behind that request  –“[color=cyan]I won’t tell anyone.[/color]”

"[color=a2d9ce]Thanks.[/color]"

"[color=cyan]So...anything else you need me for?[/color]"

"[color=a2d9ce]Er--,[/color]" Callan wondered if their conversations were always going to end this way. Like an impromptu appointment. "[color=a2d9ce]No, that's all I wanted to talk about,[/color]" she smiled at him before standing up, "[color=a2d9ce]Thanks for coming by.[/color]"

“[color=cyan]Don’t mention it. Give me a call whenever you need me.[/color]” -Sander moved to stand up as well, taking that as the cue to leave –“[color=cyan]I’ll leave then?[/color]”

"[color=a2d9ce]Yeah, if you want,[/color]" she chuckled, "[color=a2d9ce]I'm done buggin' ya. You gotta get back to Christmas anyway, right?[/color]" 

“[color=cyan]Yeah. I told him I’d be back soon. I promised.[/color]” -Sander smiled apologetically –“[color=cyan]So…see you around.[/color]” -With that said, he turned and walked toward the door, closing it quietly behind him as he left.  

"[color=a2d9ce]See ya,[/color]" Callan waved. Walking back over to her bed, Callan sat down and flopped backwards, staring holes through the cieling. She had a lot to think about before she scheduled their next sparring match. After several minutes void of any progress, she reached for her tablet, sliding it across the bed towards her. Holding it above her head, she unlocked her screen and opened the broswer. Immediately she was taken back to the page she'd been viewing the night before. 

[quote][b]Cancer (Seiji Renge  //  19):[/b] Wish granted, Rad. Next on the list is Cancer. So this guy's nickname stuck a bit too hard from first impressions when his power has nothing to do with cancer or carcinogens. He wears his "magic pet" like a weird, black blob around his neck and shoulders, and it's supposed to be imitating a feather boa or something. Someone at an editorial office late at night probably thought the joke would be hilarious (the social media backlash actually got the guy fired), but didn't bet on the name sticking thanks to the internet and the whole "what is dead may never die" mindset of trolls online. Cancer has a pet that devours everything it touches besides him and his allies, because he can fine tune that control.[/quote]

Callan sighed. The information on Death and Taxes about the Precursors and Cat's Cradle wasn't as enlightening as she'd thought it might be. She couldn't help but wonder if there had been some threads on the old forums that would've helped her figure out this weird relationship she seemed to have with Misery. Of course, it was just her luck that the site would get shut down when [i]she[/i] became a subnatural. Er-- mage. 

A few taps of the screen later, her finger hovered over the empty search bar of a new window. 

[quote]s h a d o w[/quote]

She tapped in the word and hit enter. 

Definitions and synonyms, a wikipedia page, the Jungian Shadow, Shadow the Hedgehog, some movie from 1994 called "The Shadow", Shadow of War....?

She scrolled through the results without bothering to click on anything or read past the blue font. [color=a2d9ce][i]What am I doing?[/i][/color] she inwardly sighed. The only way she going to figure this out was on her own. She needed to find a safe place in Ground Zero and just... practice. Without being scared out of her mind or crying like a damn baby. Yeah. She nodded confidently to herself before suddenly rolling over onto her stomach, pulling her ear buds out of the pocket of her hoodie. With a push of the home button and a tap of a familiar red and white icon, she stuffed a pillow under her arms and propped the screen up against the wall.

First thing tomorrow night after training. 
[/hider]

[center][h3][color=8493ca]『ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤』[/color] [color=lightcoral]『𝕃𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕟𝕒』[/color][/h3][/center] [center][img] http://i63.tinypic.com/2h84geb.jpg [/img][img] http://i67.tinypic.com/2pzxlvr.png [/img][/center] 
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img][/center] [hr][center][color=silver]ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ℙ𝕠𝕤𝕥   / /   [@Kyrisse][@January][/color][/center][hr][hr][center][color=silver]𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟛, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥   / /   𝕆𝕦𝕥𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖  / /   ~𝟙𝟘𝟛𝟘[/color][/center][hr]

[hider=Distance]


Sander did say the visit would be quick, but as the minutes ticked by with only the printed words on a page to keep him company (and they weren't even accompanied by riveting images or background music), Christmas found his thoughts drifting again, especially to yesterday where it felt like he had come full circle, but with a few crucial specks of himself rearranged. 

The memory brought back Lily and her kindness that was too much for him, because he had never offered anything to her. Not a thing, and she was too much. Like Sander. But at least with Sander he had found a skewed equilibrium. One where he let Sander take the brunt of emotional backlash for his inability to face down his own problems. He could name their friendship what he liked, but he wasn't doing much giving. Only taking. For some reason, they had both decided without ever clarifying the terms that the trade was all right if he simply remained by Sander's side.

Marcus had asked about a "thing" between them, and Christmas hadn't known what to think. He liked Sander. And Sander was nice. Too nice. Too much for him and he thought it was more than enough to just be near. If there was any "thing" between them, it was only because he had tied it to Sander's wrist without asking, and he knew that quiet guilt draped in cornflower blue loops. Sander didn't even understand what he was promising. His roommate was just kind enough to be completely unaware--but Christmas congratulated himself on realizing it this time. Asking Sander to stay near felt like a kidnapping that the hostage wasn't aware of.

Everything turned a darker shade when he thought of it that way, fear and guilt tightening around his throat like a noose. He was undoubtedly taking advantage of Sander to satisfy his own insecurities. He had known that the moment a desperate ribbon had wound around Sander's wrist. A "trust pact" was certainly part of it, but Marcus hadn't caught the reverse side: dependency. 

His fears from that Monday evening crawled into view, and that ribbon was coexistence or crippling attachment. Or maybe that was too simple. Maybe it was a bit of both or a bit of neither. And, god, he wished he could define it better, because he kept wanting to be a good person but it always came down to how easily he gave in when someone threw him a bone. Or a Vita.

He trusted Sander. He did. But everything Sander said was colored by the knowledge that his normally gentle roommate simply didn't understand the insidious nature of [i]needing[/i] someone. Didn't understand it the way Alan didn't. It was like they both could read the selfish grasping of his loneliness and knew the right things to say and do. But not the right things to feel.

Suddenly Sander returning soon was a little frightening, because it seemed like at any moment the strip of blue and the "thing" between them would fall apart and Christmas would watch his hopes crumble with it. He had done something right the day he bought himself that ribbon--like commemorating and displaying an achievement--but the aftermath was so eerily familiar now he half expected Alvin to knock on the door and remind him to say "Thank you" for the help.

It would have been marginally easier to expect Ernie at the door instead, because painkillers could fix bruises. They couldn't fix the careful selection of words and actions that was Alvin and his exacting promises of affections like transactions. Christmas put his book down, deciding to leave before he affixed unpleasant memories to the new room. He didn't want that here. It wouldn't take long--just a quick breath of air to take his mind off useless thoughts that seemed to float towards the surface every time he let himself think for too long. He should have just lost himself in daydreams instead, before the scent of peppermint and the image of cold eyes gripped his mind.

The door clicked shut behind him as Christmas stumbled out, realizing only as he exited the building that he had left his phone behind. But he just needed to breathe, before the panic set in and curled his limbs around himself while his mind relived memories and pieced together thoughts that terrified him. Just a quick breath of air.

That had been the plan, at least, before he found himself hunched over on a bench near the registrar's office, staring at the cement like it would offer answers to questions he couldn't even formulate.

Lily was, as always, aimlessly wandering around and had just rounded the corner when she saw the boy hunched over on a bench. She stopped. Small frame, blonde hair. The other healer. What was his name again? She vaguely remember it as a holiday.

[color=lightcoral][i]Halloween? No, that doesn't sound right. It can't be Thanksgiving, can it?[/i][/color] She bit her lip.

[color=lightcoral][i]Hannukah?[/i][/color] She rubbed her eyes. Why was she so forgetful?

A few more minutes and her face lit up. [color=lightcoral][i]Christmas![/i][/color] She thought triumphantly. But the smile on her lips turned into a frown when she remembered their last encounter with each other. It was just after the flag football game... He had a really potent healing ability but while it healed everyone, it left him wounded. She had decided then to try and help out and maybe even befriend the meek boy. But he riled her up so much that she almost gave back more than what she took. She stared at him from the short distance, trying to decide if it was a good idea to approach him or to just let him be.

But then she had nothing better to do. 

So, the small blonde teen shrugged and walked over to where he was.

[color=lightcoral]"Hey. Are you okay?"[/color] she called out.

The voice was barely familiar for him, and Christmas nearly flinched on looking up, finding Lily in front of him again. He had avoided speaking with her on Wednesday, and the atmosphere then had helped prevent any unnecessary interaction, but now he didn't have any excuse to remain quiet, especially not when she addressed him directly.

[color 8493ca]"F-fine,"[/color] he answered quickly, covering the recent thin cut on the back of his left wrist. He had seen what she could do and that wouldn't stop her, but instinct had moved his hand anyway, so he left it there and turned back to the ground. The bruises on his face were still plainly visible, but there wasn't much he could do about that besides keep his head down. [color 8493ca]"...Sorry."[/color]

She saw how he covered the cut on his left wrist and ducked his head but she knew of his injuries before she could even look. Normally, she would have heard the voices of her stigma egging her on to take it and then create pain with it but spending time wreaking havoc in Ground Zero had calmed the voices  significantly. [color=lightcoral]"I'm not gonna force you to give it up, if that's what you're worried about."[/color]

That [i]had[/i] been what he was worried about, among other things, and Christmas couldn't bring himself to look up, so he nodded at the ground. [color 8493ca]"S-sorry."[/color] He chewed on the inside of his lower lip for a moment, fighting against the urge to just remain silent and hope she'd leave. He hadn't found the nerve to approach her after Monday. Had decided that was [i]okay.[/i] But it wasn't, so a deep breath helped pull the words reluctantly from his mouth. [color 8493ca]"About--about Monday, t-too."[/color]

Lily looked at the boy, wondering what could have happened to him to make him be like this -- awkward and spineless. Or maybe that's who he's always been? It's sad, in a way. Being too awkward didn't really give him a chance to make friends. Not tht she could... But whatever the case was, she merely shrugged. Somehow, she felt that he really didn't want her there but at one point, she knew she needed to talk to him. And so she stayed. [color=lightcoral]"Don't worry about it. You do what you do. I shouldn't meddle in it too much. So, I suppose I should be the one saying sorry for Monday."[/color] 

[color 8493ca]"N--I...was, um..."[/color] Words came easier to Christmas when he wasn't trying so hard to make them fit. That's how it had always worked and how it had always bothered him. When he didn't need them--didn't want them--they were there, ripe and ready to say. But when he wanted to explain that he had been scared of her, only because she was so much [i]more[/i] and he couldn't fathom that someone whose value existed higher than null was taking on his self-inflicted injuries, the words just shriveled into specks that darted easily out of his grasp the harder he tried. [color 8493ca]"...Sorry,"[/color] he repeated, an apology for both himself and the words he couldn't find. [color 8493ca]"Not--not your fault."[/color]

[color=lightcoral]"1...2...3..."[/color] Lily stared at the boy, still trying to figure him out. [color=lightcoral]"That's the third time you said sorry. You really don't need to apologize too much. Although... if you can't find the words, then sorry can probably be a good alternative..."[/color] She chuckled. [color=lightcoral]"Or don't listen to me. I'm probably talking nonsense."[/color] She was trying to be friendly, hoping that he'd loosen up a bit. He was, after all, the only other healer in their group aside from her. She figured it would be better to try to get along with him than to be at odds. Teamwork and all that shit. But looking at him, it was obvious that being friendly to the boy wasn't going to be an easy feat. [color=lightcoral]"Well, I guess that's that. Would you rather I leave now?"[/color]

The easy answer would have been "yes" so he could avoid explaining even the tip of the iceberg. Avoid the difficult things. Leave it all in limbo and hope everything would work out if he closed his eyes and covered his ears long enough. Yesterday's echo of "important" still rung in the back of his mind and Christmas clutched at the fabric of his light-gray jacket, pinching it between two fingers. He didn't have a buffer here to fall back on and look for strength in. And he might have laughed at how even talking required that kind of preparation from him, but the sound would have broken into coughs anyway.

[color 8493ca]"I'm--uh--"[/color] What would a [i]normal[/i] person's reaction be? He couldn't guess it, much as he tried, but Lily had at least let him have his "Sorry"s without questioning it. "A good alternative." [color 8493ca]"--not w-worth it. But, um. T-thank you."[/color]

Lily scratched her head and wrinkled her brow. [color=lightcoral][i]He's not worth it? What's he talking about? Does he want me to stay or does he want me to go?[/i][/color] She stood there, once again trying to make sense of what he had just said. Walking away would have been easier. Apologies have been exchanged, there was really no need to stay. But... She sat down next to him. [color=lightcoral]"Where's that guy you always hang out with? It's a little strange to find you here all alone."[/color]

Christmas blinked in surprise at both the topic change and Lily sitting down beside him. He turned to look reflexively, the expression sliding back into unease when he remembered why he was out there to begin with. [color 8493ca]"H-he's...um...busy...?"[/color] It wasn't exactly the right word for Sander leaving to talk with Callan, but it would have to do. As for being all alone, he had felt it like a weight on his shoulders most of his life, but the stifling pressure had been constant enough that he could fool himself into believing it was comforting.

Being with Sander had lifted that delusion, and it was frightening at times to realize that leaden weight had never been as companionable as he had tried to believe.

In this moment when he was alone again, unable to fool himself, and scared of wanting companionship, Christmas thought he found a glimmer of that remarkable clarity from Monday night. Just a particle smaller than dust, but it filled in so many of the cracks between his words. Not perfectly, but more than enough.

[color 8493ca]"He's...he's too nice. And--and so are you."[/color] Blue eyes darted across Lily's face, a flicker of anguish in a minute frown and strained temples, but the moment passed and Christmas turned back to the mindless solidity of concrete. [color 8493ca]"S-sorry."[/color] [color 8493ca][i]For not being worth that kind of concern.[/i][/color] Those words were there, forming in cleanly ordered sets of letters on the forefront of his mind and drifting towards his tongue. He swallowed them instead, deciding the only person here who needed to listen to self-pity more than once was him.

When Christmas said that she was nice, Lily's hand automatically went up to the base of her throat where the black X mark was. How can someone think she was nice when she had such intense need to destroy...to hurt. She shook her head. No, she wasn't nice at all. She couldn't even remember why she was found nearly dead outside USARILN East. [color=lightcoral]"No, I'm not nice. I just... try to be,"[/color] she voiced out. She turned her head towards the boy. [color=lightcoral]"Of course, you're worth the concern. We all are. And where else would concern come from? The people here don't care about us. We're just weapons to them. In the end, we all need to look out for each other."[/color] She shrugged. [color=lightcoral]"Or at least, that's what I think."[/color]

He found that mirror of a response in both Sander and Lily, and wondered if all the people who were better than him still considered it not enough. He couldn't stake a claim on despair because two months to five years felt too vast. And he couldn't claim to hold "trying" near his heart because if this pattern kept up, then his flailing imitation of effort was just as worthless as the rest of him when his betters were trying as well, and they had more to start with.

[color 8493ca]"I don't know--don't know if I can...look out for people..."[/color] Christmas admitted. He could barely look out for himself. [color 8493ca]"But...um. If--if you want I can...can--next time you need to--t-to heal I can. H-heal you, too...?"[/color] He stared at her shoes as he said it, thinking too much and too little about consequences and pain for himself, but even if all he had was a feeble mimicry of resolve...

Even if that was all he could manage. He still wanted to lay it out in front of himself as proof of meager accomplishment.

Lily's lips curled up into a smile. [color=lightcoral]"Oh, I think you do a good job looking out for people. Even if it hurts and even if you don't want to, you still do it. That's enough to qualify."[/color] 

He looked up then, eyes wide. [color 8493ca]"Really?"[/color] It was less a question of belief and more a question of validation, but the word had already tumbled out on that little hope and Christmas cleared his throat afterwards in embarrassment. [color 8493ca]"S-sorry."[/color]

The little blonde laughed this time. [color=lightcoral]"Oh, no need to say sorry. I'm just saying it as I see it."[/color] She reached out and gave Christmas a half hug that surprised a stiff gasp out of him. He still looked shocked after she backed up. [color=lightcoral]'Let's look out for each other then, okay? I... Well, I'm a little different from you... I heal people differently and well... my..."[/color] she trailed off, thinking if she should continue what she started to say. After a few seconds, she shrugged. No use keeping things that were obvious. [color=lightcoral]"My stigma can sometimes make me... well... crazy."[/color] She laughed again. [color=lightcoral]"As if being Bipolar isn't enough."[/color] It was really the first time she admitted out loud that she had the disorder. [color=lightcoral]"Anyway, yeah... you heal and I'll get rid of any monsters that gets in our way."[/color] 

At the mention of "crazy," Christmas tensed, but when Lily moved past the topic of mental disorders to the comforting agreement of helping in kind, he blinked the thoughts away and rubbed the corner of his sleeve against his nose for a bit longer than was necessary, obscuring the lower half of his face. She was bipolar, and that should have worried him more, but after Sander, after Ernie, and after himself and the things he was still holding onto, it seemed he had half-expected something to be wrong. Even then, he thought she was more admirable than him.

[color 8493ca]"Thank--thank you."[/color]

Lily nodded her head, a delighted look on her face. [color=lightcoral]"It's nice to hear you say something other than sorry for once."[/color]

He didn't know what to say to that, so Christmas just kept rubbing his nose, hiding a tiny smile.

As the seconds of silence filed in, he remembered with a quiet [color 8493ca]"Oh"[/color] that he needed to be back in the suite soon or Sander would worry. Pointing and turning hesitantly in the direction of the Arbiter dorms, he mumbled something like [color 8493ca]"I-I'll go back to the--the dorm,"[/color] before looking back at Lily. [color 8493ca]"If--if you need, um. H-help? The--um--suite t-two hundred and two."[/color]

[color=lightcoral][i]Suite 202... Hmmm... I wonder if an Aberration like me can actually come up to an Arbiter's room.[/i][/color] But even with those thoughts, Lily found herself curious about what an Arbiter dorm looked like. Unlike her, they were rooming together. So it was only logical that their room was a bigger than hers. Lost in her thoughts, she gave Christmas a distracted smile and a small wave before she wandered off.

With a quick wave back at Lily, Christmas returned to the dorm building, steps hasty because he hadn't been keeping track of time and wasn't sure how long he had been out. Not long, by his guess, but without his phone to confirm, he didn't want to risk coming back slowly.

The room was still empty when he returned, and he breathed a sigh of relief, removing his shoes and curling back up in his bed, sheets across his lap and [i]Meditations[/i] back in his hands. He wasn't exactly trying to hide anything from Sander, but it struck him that it might have looked a bit like that from how precisely he replicated his position from earlier, so he moved to his desk chair instead, slowly flipping through the book there and trying not to think too much about feeling better despite everything that had happened yesterday.
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